


Peace

by symphorine



Series: Bokuroo Week 2016 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BoKuroo Week 2016, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together, honestly this is just me waxing poetics about bokuto I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6451396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphorine/pseuds/symphorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were cardboard boxes everywhere here, too, piled in precarious balance and following a complex plan that left a small path to the large cupboard and around the bed. Most were marked with something like “clothes” or “books”, but still closed. Only one was open, sitting at Bokuto's feet when Kuroo finally reached him. Inside, he knew, were the things that went on their nightstands – their alarm clocks, two lamps, Bokuto's collection of small owl decorations, a book Kuroo loved and always kept close. It was untouched.</p><p>-</p><p>Bokuroo Week 2016, Day 3: Roommates.</p><p>Or: Bokuto and Kuroo move in together and, as usual, I use that occasion to write sappy stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really have the time to reread, so excuse the few errors and typos that are probably still there please!

 

Kuroo let the heavy box fall at his feet, narrowly avoiding to crush his toes.

“That's the last one, babe, we're done,” he declared, brushing his fringe out of his face. “Bo?”

His boyfriend was nowhere in sight. Kuroo frowned, suspicious at the lack of noise, too. Bokuto tended to conjure up a storm of excitation around him, and today, especially, he'd been almost impossible to manage. Which – Kuroo understood, he was happy about moving in together too, but he'd been glad to have Akaashi to reign him in and make him focus on the task at hand.

Most of their friends were out already, in front of the building, waiting for them to go celebrate all together after helping move all the furniture up the stairs – third floor, no elevator, they _all_ deserved a drink – but Kuroo was almost certain Bokuto was still in the apartment. He pushed the box aside with his heel, took his shoes off and went to look in the kitchen.

“Bo? You here?” he called, his head peeking around the wall.

The room was small, looking even more cramped with everything still packed and left to lie here and there. Some things were half out of their boxes, shoved in open cupboards and aligned on the table, as if someone had started putting everything away and gotten distracted halfway through. There was a small window, but all you could see behind the glass was the wall of another building.

Even after checking again, now certain his boyfriend wasn't in the room, Kuroo couldn't help but walk closer to the table. Someone – Bokuto, probably – had fished out the mismatched plates that were now theirs. Most of them were gifts, but the one on top of the pile was one he'd bought for Bokuto, initially as a joke, adorned with a terribly colorful pattern. Of course, Bokuto had loved it so sincerely and immediately Kuroo had felt his heart skip a few beats. He let his finger trace the curve of the plate with a fond smile, remembering how much Bokuto had kissed him that day. He'd never even regretted having to eat out of the visual monstrosity - that had been the quality that had made him buy it in the first place.

He shook his head and made himself go back in the living room, which looked more like a post-apocalyptic hide-out than an actual living room. Kuroo was pretty sure it was only a matter of cleaning and tidying until it looked like something you could live in, though. Well, he hoped, at least. He peered between the boxes, sneezing once or twice when he would bang into one and it caused a cloud of dust to rise, but there was no Bokuto to be seen here, either.

He shot a quick glance in the bathroom, but he didn't really expect to see him there. It was probably the least cluttered part of the apartment right now, and Kuroo smiled a little when he saw that someone had laid out all of their things and tried to organize them on shelves. That was probably where Kenma had been all afternoon, he realized, and he made a note to remember to thank him. It was nice to have at least one room already done.

It only left the bedroom. Kuroo didn't bother announcing himself and just opened the door.

Bokuto was sitting on their bed, turning his back to him, apparently looking at something through one of the two windows in the room. It was at the corner of the building, facing west and south, so they wouldn't be woken up by the light in the morning. There were cardboard boxes everywhere here, too, piled in precarious balance and following a complex plan that left a small path to the large cupboard and around the bed. Most were marked with something like “clothes” or “books”, but still closed. Only one was open, sitting at Bokuto's feet when Kuroo finally reached him. Inside, he knew, were the things that went on their nightstands – their alarm clocks, two lamps, Bokuto's collection of small owl decorations, a book Kuroo loved and always kept close. It was untouched.

Bokuto was hunched forward, his elbows digging in his thighs and his hands holding loosely his phone between his knees. The late-afternoon sun cast a warm, orange glow on him, illuminating his face and his eyes. His hair was down, since he hadn't had the time to style it that morning, too busy with transporting everything, and it fell softly on his eyes, his ears, his neck.

Kuroo kind of wanted to run his hand through the black and white locks. He gazed at Bokuto for a moment – seconds or minutes – and forgot why he was even there. It was rare to see him so still, so calm, especially when he'd been a bundle of nerves all day. Kuroo felt like he was getting a glimpse of something precious, something to cherish and carve in his memory. He wished he could take a picture of that exact moment, capture the way Bokuto looked forever, but he doubted a simple photograph would do it – do _him_ – justice.

There was always a grace in Bokuto's movements, even when he was wildly gesturing along the retelling of his latest blunder, that had somehow made its way into his stillness. It was there – in the curve of his jaw, the angle of his nose, the shape of his eyes and their half-closed lids. Even immobile, life seemed to overflow out of him, bright in the way only invisible things could be.

Kuroo's chest felt constricted. He exhaled slowly, wondering if he would dare to speak up. Somehow, the scene didn't feel like it allowed more than whispers.

Bokuto finally turned his face toward him, his eyes tearing away from whatever it was fixed on to land on Kuroo. Nothing else moved, not a corner of his mouth or his left eyebrow that would go up before the other whenever he raised them. If not for the slight heaving of his chest, under his sweat-stained T-shirt, he could have been mistaken for a beautiful carving of some ancient deity, like those you'd see in museums. Any other time, the stillness would have been worrying, but in that minute, drenched in sunlight and quiet, it looked like peace.

Kuroo finally closed the distance between them, sliding on the bed just beside Bokuto. His left knee and his right ankle pressed against Bokuto's thigh, just enough to ground him into reality again, then he slid forward and slipped his arms around his boyfriend's waist, his head falling in the crook of his neck. He closed his eyes, and the fabric of Bokuto's shirt felt soft under his fingertips, worn and familiar. Bokuto moved then, too, his arm reaching around Kuroo's back to hug him closer, and the way he turned his head placed Kuroo's mouth just on his neck. He could feel every breath going through Bokuto, soundless and light, just as Bokuto could feel the air going past his lips. For a moment, they just breathed, in and out, adopting the same rhythm, and it was the only sound in the room.

Kuroo wanted to stay like this forever.

Eventually, though, no longer completely mesmerized by the sight of Bokuto, he remembered why he was looking for his boyfriend. With reluctance, he straightened up, coming nose to nose with him. He was so close he could count every freckle on his face – he had, once, though he'd lost count every time Bokuto would scrunch up his nose.

“We should go with the others. They're waiting for us,” he finally managed to say.

Bokuto hummed in response, but he only smiled and turned back toward the window. The sun had set behind the buildings now, allowing them to see what the light had been hiding. The view was nice, but Kuroo didn't think anything could compare to how Bokuto had looked mere minutes before.

“We're gonna live together.”

Bokuto's voice didn't surprise him. He'd felt him take a deeper breath, felt his voice arise from his chest. Kuroo smiled and buried his face in his boyfriend's neck again.

“Yeah,” came his answer, muffled in Bokuto's shoulder.

“I'm going to see you every day,” Bokuto carried on. “Every morning, and we're going to sleep together every night.”

“And I'm going to have to live with the smell of your feet,” Kuroo grumbled.

“And me with your terrible cooking,” Bokuto retorted.

“Yeah,” Kuroo replied, repeated, his tone softer. “We're gonna live together.”

Their hands had found each other in Bokuto's lap, somehow. Kuroo pressed a quick kiss just under Bokuto's ear, grinning as he intertwined their fingers.

“I never thought you'd be the one to say that kind of thing,” he teased. “I thought I was supposed to be the sappy one in this relationship.”

“You just spent five minutes staring at me,” Bokuto snorted. “Don't worry, you're still the sappiest.”

“Shut up,” Kuroo protested.

He savored the next few seconds. The moment was over, they knew it, but it was hard to leave it behind.

“Come on, they're waiting for us,” Kuroo finally sighed again, detaching himself from his boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah, coming,” Bokuto smiled.

He stood up and stretched, a few popping noises coming from his back. Kuroo walked across their bed and landed on the other side, reaching the door first, but Bokuto caught up to him in the small entrance, jumping on his back before kissing his cheek.

“Race you down!” he yelled, putting on his shoes with a speed and dexterity that no human should be capable of.

“Cheater!” Kuroo called after him, still struggling with his own left shoe.

Bokuto's laugh resonated in the hallway, loud and joyful and still as warm as the sunlight. Kuroo smiled and grabbed his keys and his wallet before heading out, pretty certain Bokuto has forgotten his. He was in no hurry – he knew he wouldn't catch up in time to win the race. He could always have his revenge when they would come back, though. Or maybe not.

For the first time tonight they would come home together, and that was worth any kind of victory, really.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes, sappy fluff is my speciality. I like when everyone is happy, apparently. Like, stupidly happy.
> 
> As usual, [tumblr post here](http://asexualkurootetsurou.tumblr.com/post/142200941889). Thank you for reading!


End file.
